


His chambers

by Cornicello



Series: kleio [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Beacon Hills, F/M, Isaac Feels, King Derek Hale, M/M, Nurse Isaac, Time Travel, royal affairs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-21
Updated: 2014-07-08
Packaged: 2018-01-25 23:01:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1665689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cornicello/pseuds/Cornicello
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Stiles' history class takes a field trip to the Royal history museum of Beacon somethings happens. Stiles ends up discovering a world that he never knew of; A world that he belonged to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The annual history class trip is the only time high school juniors of Beacon Hills can leave their boring classrooms. As of now a total of 163 students were waiting impatiently at the main doors of the Royal history museum of Beacon. The doors opened and students began pouring into the marble decorated foyer, everyone separating into groups led by their teachers. 

“Scott! Come on lets ditch them and go look at the museum on our own!” The two boys stopped behind while everyone proceeded deeper into the giant manor. A tall lanky boy with pale skin, brown hair and amber eyes grinned devilishly.

“Come on! you know we’re never gonna get to see anything we want with the whole school walking around like a pack of zombies.” The other boy, Scott looked unsure. Being a lost puppy and being easily manipulated by the wittier boy he groaned and followed him as he dashed up the staircase. 

“Stiles, what if Mr. Perrino finds out that we went off? He’s gonna grill us!” Stiles came to a halt with Scott tugging on his sleeve.

“Scotty, nothing’s gonna happen! If he questions, just say we were lost in art and by the time we turned around everyone was gone.” He even patted Scott’s head for assurance.

“Fine but if anything goes down you’re the evil mastermind behind this.” His eyes squinting at the other’s amber eyes.

“The Robin to my Batman!” he smiled latching onto Scott’s arm and practically dragging him up. “Come on let’s go.”

The two now stood in the exhibit of the Monarchs of Beacon kingdom. Stiles was nose deep in the information pamphlet and his companion was looking at glass cases full of trinkets owned by the Kings and Queens of the Hale dynasty.

“Hey Scotty, did you know that there was a dude named Derek that ruled Beacon before Queen Cora the great?”

Scott broke his attention from the glass encased tiara and turned to Stiles.  
“Yeah, that was her older brother. He only ruled for three and a half years before he went missing.” This peaked Stiles interest. 

“Missing?” he prompted. Scott sighed rubbing his face.

“Dude. We literally learned about this last week!” 

“Well, I’m not a history major for a reason !” He nudged Scott. “Come on tell me more about him.” he pouted eyes big and wide making the other cower in defeat. 

“King Derek Hale of our country ruled for only about three and a half years. He’s one of the most short reigned Monarchs of our history, even shorter than his elder sister’s reign of five years.”

“And his sister would be?” he waved his hands dramatically in front of him to make him continue.

“Queen Laura Hale, the virgin queen.” he replied blandly in a monotone voice, obviously bored with his friend’s lack of knowledge of what they learned only two weeks prior to their trip.

“King Derek was coronated after his sister Laura died of cancer. People say that he had a very favoured consort and when he died, Derek went insane riding off into the woods in search of something to revive him.” Stiles was fascinated. This they definitely did not cover in their text books.

“He? You mean he was gay?” he smiled, excited at the thought.

“Yeah. But it’s weird. Other than stories there aren't any paintings or portraits of him, not even a name. Some say that he never existed, some say that Queen Cora was so enraged by her brother’s death that she blamed the unnamed consort and had all evidence of his existence destroyed.” 

Stiles took a moment to let it sink in. Wow he thought. He rubbed the back of his neck and his necklace fell to the floor. His necklace was a plain gold necklace with a pendant given to him from his mom who passed away several years ago. The pendant was a simple arrow that hung from the chain and pointed downwards; a symbol of his Mother’s maiden family who were archers. Just as he bent down to retrieve it a yellow bird seemed to swoop out of nowhere taking his necklace then flapping away.

“Hey!” Stiles ran after the bird, Scott running behind him.

“Dude what the hell!.” he yelled equal pace with Stiles.

“That bitch took my necklace!” he yelled back turning a sharp corner earning looks from people all around.

“Bitch? The bird bitch?”

“Yes the fucking bird bitch! It took my pendant!” he yelled back. He sworn he saw an old lady have a heart attack.

The bird flew into a metal door that was open ajar. Stiles ran in after it. It was a dark room and looked like a warehouse of some sort only lit by light bulbs that hung from the ceiling.

“Come on where are you! Give me back my necklace birdbrain!” he panted out of breath. Scanning the room he finally found the bird. It dropped his necklace on the floor and flew away. Stiles grabbed it and kissed the pendant, fastening it back on his neck making sure the clasp was secure.

“Dude ! I found the bird!” Scott called behind him. He emerged from the shadows.

“Thanks dude. But I got it back.” he used his thumb to tug at the necklace. Scott laughed in relief.

“Come on let’s go before we get in trouble for something.” Scott pointed out, helping Stiles get up. 

There was a large portrait half covered with a canvas tarp. The half that wasn’t covered showed a Tall man dressed in elizabethan attire with dark hair, green eyes and a Crown that sat on his head. The man’s right hand was extended holding someone else's hand. Stiles touched the tarp pulling it off.

“Stiles don’t touch that!” he warned, but it’s too late. The sound of the tarp flapping and hitting the floor echoed through the room. Both boys were silent, petrified. The other figure on the canvas of which was holding hands with King Derek, was equally as tall, with brown hair and brilliant eyes. It was like seeing a reflection of Stiles in the portrait.

“Oh my god.” he gasped backing away. He looked at Scott, “What is this?” 

“I don’t know. But he looks exactly like you! Look he even has your necklace!” It was true. Stiles looked at the portrait closely. One could actually mistake it for a picture of him. A tap on the shoulder distracted him from his thoughts.

“Stiles look.” Scott handed his phone to Stiles. The screen showed what he had translated from latin, reading Prince consort Stiles of Tudor. 

“No. This can’t be true.” he said. Stiles dropped the phone upon hearing a metal door open. 

“Crap! come on let’s go!” he whispered to Scott handing back his phone. The two scurried back out from where they came. Nervous all the way, Scott texted Danny who told him where their class was so they could meet back up without suspicion. Soon after joining their class they went for lunch and Stiles escaped to the bathroom.

He splashed water on his face and took a deep breath wondering what the hell was going on. Wiping his face dry he turned to the mirror wall. 

“Who are you?” this was insanity. He was talking to a figure in the glass. It was the consort from the painting holding a bow and arrow, quiver on his back. He could barely breath when the glass shattered as the consort shot an arrow straight at him. Back hitting the floor he realized he fell and an arrow was sticking out of his shoulder. 

“What?” he gasped, footsteps coming his way. The last thing he heard was slow footsteps coming his way as everything faded away.


	2. Chapter 2

Rustling. He could hear it ring through wherever he was now. The sharp ache had yet to fade, and there was a wetness near his upper left arm. Just the thought of his own blood all over his body made Stiles cringe. Horses were galloping his way; he could hear them loud and clear he couldn’t open his eyes at all. He was too tired. 

“Oh dear, Your Majesty I’m afraid it was not the stag whom you have hunted.” Came a man with a voice low with concern. The heavy rustle of leather gave away the fact that someone unmounted their horse and was now walking near. Who ever it was, was now crouching next to his head.

“Does the arrow look deep enough to be pushed through the other side?” His voice made Stiles intrigued with what his face would look like, it completely drew attention away from what was going to happen next. 

“No sir. From the looks of it we can just pull it out and wrap up the wound.”

“Good. Take the arrow out then have him brought back to the palace with us.” A firm heavy hand came down on his left pec and before he knew a searing pain like nothing before drove him into unconsciousness. 

When he could finally open his eyes he awoke in a lavish bed sprinkled with rose petals. His left shoulder was bandaged, a dull ache now replacing the previously merciless pain. 

“This can not be happening! Please tell me I fell into a coma and this is all a dream.” he prayed rubbing the ball of his hand into his eyes. 

“His Majesty the King arrives!” A herald announced. Stiles’ head whipped towards the door. Upon opening came the most beautiful man he had ever seen. King Derek of Hale looked every bit of the figure he saw in the painting. He moved closer next to Stiles’ bed and bent down.

“Young lad. I am awfully sorry. You see it was my fault that you have been wounded, During the royal hunt I was chasing a stag and when I loosened the arrow it must have hit you instead.” The kind king explained. All Stiles could do was nod along.

“It’s fine. I am blessed with all the heaven’s graces to be apologized to by a king.” He laughed.

Derek himself now sat on the bed, resting his face upon Stiles’ left cheek. 

“Tell me, what is your name?” There was a hint of smile in the older man’s expression and it made anyone’s heart melt.

“My name? Oh, my name is Stiles. Stiles...Tudor.” The king removed his hand and nodded. 

“What were you doing in my forest, dressed in such naked and motley clothing?” Oh no. He had to come up with something. What was he supposed to say? I chased a yellow bird into a dark room, saw a painting of us together in holy matrimony, then a reflection of myself shot me with an arrow and now I woke up here? No. Stiles hold him off then find a way back home.

“I am an orphan. I come from the southern Isles, and upon arriving here I was chased into the forest by bandits.” Derek’s hand came to lift his chin.

“Well, you have no more fear. From this day on you will no longer be an orphan. You will be under my care and the Hale family.”

“Thank you.” Was all Stiles could say.  
“Stiles, I have some rather important subjects to tend to. I’ll be back by the end of the day to visit you.” The king kissed him once on his hand before retiring out of the room. Suddenly tired again Stiles dug himself into the duvet careful to avoid his shoulder and drifted off into slumber once again. 

Outside the quiet room, Derek faced many problems.

“So, you fancy this mysterious boy?” His sister Cora asked. Derek’s eyebrows furrowed.

“I do not.” He muttered tight lipped. Just for once he wanted something to himself.

“You can’t lie to me you know. You’ve been with that boy ever since you shot him in the forest and when he came to, you were alone in there with him for merely ten minutes then came out besotted.” She argued. Derek in frustration stopped and turned to face Cora.

“Cora! What do you want?” His younger sister only raised her chin in defiance, eyes meeting with his.

“I want to warn you and remind you that to break engagement with Katharyn of Argent is extremely unwise. As the king of our proud country you should sort out your priorities and I as Princess of Beacon will not allow the welfare of my people to sacrificed for some love story.” Cora spoke every word with confidence. Coming forward she rested her hand on her brothers chest.

“Brother, I know that to marry Katharyn of Argent is not something that you want to do. But you are now king you bear both the heart and the crown to Beaconia, it’s time set childish thoughts aside and do what is best for your country.” 

Derek brushed off her hand and turned around. “Sometimes I feel this crown is just too much to bear.” Both continued to the throne room respectively silent.


	3. Chapter 3

He awoke when a nurse came to change his bandages.The sky was still bright, cloud floating in the air.

“What year is it?” he suddenly asked. The nurse’s face was confusion mixed with amusement.

“You must have hit your head pretty hard when the king shot you. Today is April twenty-first 1511.” She informed him finishing up the bandages then washing her hands in a basin.

“Two year anniversary of his reign.” Stiles muttered to himself, or he thought.

“Yes it is. That’s why there was a royal hunt today.” She revealed. _Think Stiles think!_ He thought to himself. _King Derek went missing sometime in september 1512, which means something horrible will happen in six months. If am really am the lost consort then I have to stop whatever it is from happening._

“You look a bit frightened my child. Is something the matter?” The nurse was a rather elderly black woman with wrinkled skin, sweet eyes and grey-white hair hidden underneath her gable hood. The only way Stiles could describe her would be, wise and motherly.

“No. Just waking up in a strange place is…  a bit daunting.” he replied honestly. “What is your name?” he asked.

“My name is Rebecca. And don’t worry child I know how you feel.” she smiled. Nodding and smiling he asked, “You do?”

“Oh yes. My real name is Ntomba. I came from west africa when I was captured as a slave.” For someone who came from a foreign land, Rebecca or Ntomba didn’t really have much of an accent.

“If you are slave, how are you a nurse?” Rebecca smiled looking down at the basin and started to wash the bloodied cloth.

“I was captured as a slave when I was just seven. But the Queen, she was a good woman. She took me from the slave owner and told me, girl you no need to be afraid any longer for now you a free person. I became nurse with the royal doctors and I took care of Queen Talia till the day she died.”

“Do you miss your home then?” he couldn’t help but ask. Once he did he wanted to smack himself in the face.

“Oh yes. But I’m not worried about them, the only family I had all passed away before I was captured.” she sat down on the bed by Stiles and continued. “What about you child? Do you have any family?”

Stiles stared down at his hands and started playing with his fingers. “I do. Well at least I did.”

“Oh, it’s okay child. We don’t talk of the past if you don’t want to.” she comforted. Thankful for the closure, Stiles dismissed Rebecca leaving himself in the room again.

“Okay Stiles, come on think! You’re the son of the sheriff for god sake.” He arose from the bed, stretching then walking around the room. His clothes had been changed which wasn’t surprising but somehow the thought of someone stripping him naked the dressing him up again felt extremely creepy. As of now he was only wearing a loose poet’s shirt. Only a shirt and nothing more, not even a pair of underwear. Looking around there was a pair of pants and boots set out on a chair next to the large globe and Stiles quickly slid them on.

“I wonder if…” He moved his left arm just a bit, and it no longer hurt. Curiosity and boredom struck Stiles fast. There was no way he’d sit and wait for the king to come to him.

“I am from 2014 and now I’m in fifteenth century Beaconia. In the palace. No way I’m passing this up.” with his good hand he swung open the door but on the other side of the entrance there was a guard glaring down at him.

“Your Honour, you cannot leave the room unescorted in the Palace.” This guy looked like he could glare at a marble statue and make it explode.

“You escort me then. Who better to make sure I don’t get into trouble than a guard?” Stiles snarked back dripping with sarcasm.

“You may be an Honourable guest of his Majesty the King, but I only take orders from men of the Court. Not you, brat.” The guard replied stern and gruff. Just as Stiles was about to make a statement a new feminine voice came.

“Officer Calvin, I can show him around.” The young woman that came into sight much resembled Derek, and wore a deep green court dress with a matching french hood.

“It must be so boring to be stuck that room all day.” she remarked staring at the guard.

“Your, Highness.”

“Stiles, come with me I was just on my way to the garden.” she spoke, taking his good hand. Together they walked off into the open hall.

“Stiles, I must apologize to you that brother injured you in the woods.” Holy mother jesus, This is future Queen Cora the great.

“No! I mean it’s not your fault. I mean the King probably didn’t even see me and. I was”

“Stiles, accident or not he did shoot you.” There was a wrought iron garden table and the two of them sat opposite each other.

“Wow, The flowers are beautiful.” Stiles couldn’t help but remark hoping to change the subject. Cora smiled brightly at the patch of hyacinths near them.

“They are.” she agreed. “I remember planting those with Derek when we were little. Now that he’s the king we never get to have any fun.” Suddenly her whole expression changed.

“Stiles, I’m going to be frank. Do my fancy my brother?” she asked face stern as the guard before.

“No. I can swear to you I don’t.” he stuttered a bit out of nervousness.

“Well my brother does indeed fancy you, and if you value your life as well as the people of our country then you will leave the Palace as soon as you heal. Beconia and France are on the brink of war, and if you dare distract The King from marrying Katharyn of Argent I can ensure you that I will have your head.”

No wonder history named her the Great Queen, she stopped at nothing to what’s best for her country. Cora had the bravery but Stiles had the knowledge.

“But The King doesn’t want to marry her does he?” Stiles remarked.

“He will for the welfare of his people.” she insisted.

“I can assure you, I do not ever wish for war. Thank you Princess for the lovely tour but I’ll be retiring to my chamber now.” Stiles got and left not looking back once trying to keep his face masked. Funny he thought, He’s always dreamt of time travel and all the cool things he could do if he can go back in time. But now that by some amusement of the gods the fate of a nation at peril lies in his hands.

**  
  
**

 The whole day was spent as members of the parliament flooded the throne room bickering back and forth at each other like wild chickens in front of the King. The meeting of this manner continued for quite some time and when it ended the sun was already on it’s way to set.On the other side of the Palace, standing by the large windows of the blue room Stiles found himself looking at the moon.

“Dad.” He whispered to the moon. “God, I’m so sorry. Just please be okay and wherever you are, know that I’m fine. I’m going to find a way to come back.” The door opened silently, a figure crept up behind him.

“Stiles.” The boy turned in surprise and in response began to bow but was quickly stopped by two big hands on his arms.

“Oh, no. You have no need to bow, not when it is just us. How are you feeling ?” Stiles moved a few steps across the room to sit at the table, Derek migrating with him.

“I’m feeling well enough your Majesty. Well, well enough for someone who’s been shot in the shoulder with an arrow.” He laughed casually, eyes taking in the features of the King’s face.

“You your Majesty-,” he continues. “You however look much displeased.” he asked timidly. Derek’s lips pursed into a tight line, unsure of what to say for a beat.

“Just some matters with France.” he finally spat out. There was no doubt that Derek was hiding something and Stiles wanted to know. The younger boy opened his mouth but then quickly closed it. When one is in the Palace they are standing on the edge of a cliff, one wrong step and you tumble to your death.

“If your Majesty wishes to talk, I am always willing to listen.” The Kings smiles wide and light heartedly for the first time in Stiles’ presence.

“You are one of the most genuine people I’ve had the fortune to meet since my boyhood.” Both smiled.

“Tell me Stiles, a bit about yourself. I feel we’ve been conversing for so long however I still know nothing of you.” He spoke while he poured both himself and Stiles a goblet a water. Taking a sip from the goblet, Stiles started thinking of his story.

“I am an orphan.” Stiles spoke in a manner in which he did not lie, but also did not tell the truth. “My mother, she…” words choked in his throat; he wasn’t sure if he could say it. “She passed away when I was eight. I turned sixteen this year and I decided to go out on my own and see the world for myself. Turns out it wasn’t as wise a choice as I had thought because next thing I knew I was being chased by bandits into the forest.”

“So then, you have no place call home?” His eyes watered up and a stray tear slid down his cheek as he realized that what Derek said was true. He was so far away from his family and he might not ever be able go back.

“I don’t.” he whispers. “ I guess I really don’t do I?” he speaks trying so hard to hold back his tears. Rising out of his chair Derek rushes to the boy’s side, his right index finger and thumb tilting his chin up.

“Stiles, as long as I am here you are always welcome at the Palace. This can be your new home.”

Stiles nodded, Derek’s thumb wiping away his tears. With his hand still on Stiles’ cheek he begins to lean down. The younger man’s heart sped as fast as lightning realizing what was going to happen. He brought of his hand and rested it on Derek’s lips covering his mouth.

“Your Majesty, I am feeling a bit tired. I wish to retire for the night.” Derek stepped back moving his own hand to hold the hand that Stiles held up to his lips. His face looked disappointed but not displeased.

**  
“Then goodnight Stiles. I will see you tomorrow.” he promised kissing Stiles’ hand before leaving the room.**


	4. Chapter 4

chapter 4: When it was time for his bandages to be changed the next morning, a male nurse came instead of Rebecca. He had golden curls that were cut short on the sides and bangs on his forehead. 

“Your honour, you’re awake.” she spoke smiling brighter than the sun. His eyes were big and blue and his jawline was carved from marble. Something about his face, it just made anyone who saw him forget about the world.

“Yeah. Where’s Rebecca?” he asked. 

“She’s taking care of Princess Cora. Her moon bleeds are making her feel a bit uneasy.” Moon Bleeds? Stiles thought. Oh, he said when it clicked.

“I’m Isaac by the way. Rebecca told me to keep you company today.” Smiling he led Stiles to the table where a chess set was set up. Using his good hand Stiles picked up one of the white chess pieces. In his hand was a beautiful Queen piece delicately and ornately carved from a piece of marble.

“It’s beautiful.” he muttered. Isaac took the seat opposite to him and laughed.

“It is isn’t it? Now your turn.” he smirked moving his pawn a spot forward. The two continued to play endless games until it was time for lunch. 

“Is it bad that I’m kind of glad that you got shot? I mean before you came I never met anyone who was so intellectually challenging. It’s fun sometimes and my brain has just been starving.” The blonde boy spoke eating his soup.

“Well I hardly think that there is anyone here that’s dumb.” he pushed back.

“Oh trust they’re not dumb. They’re incredibly dull.” he sulked back. Laughing they finished up their food and went out for a short walk in the gardens. Sitting down again at the wrought iron garden table the two opened up more and more to each other. Time seemed to fly when Stiles spent time with Isaac, before they knew the sun was orange and Rebecca came to look for them.

“What are you two talking about?” she asked light heartedly. The two smiled at each other before turning their heads to the nurse.

“Just how intellectually stunted people are in the palace.” Isaac answered and Stiles continued on,   
“And how the maids seem to know everything.”

“Those maids. They’ll be the death of you.” she laughed.

Across the court on the other side of the Palace in the King’s royal study, Derek sat dumbfound tossing a dollar coin up into the air again and again. 

“Brother, money is not to be played with. You know that.” Cora dreaded from her seat across his desk examining the globe. 

“Well then Cora, why don’t you think of a way to settle this petty rivalry between us and France.” 

“You will marry the wench as she desires. Who is to say that after the wedding she won’t die of being homesick?” she suggested, moon bleeds making her reasoning even more irrational.

“You're losing your mind.” He slammed the coin on his desk out of frustration and went to stand by the window admiring God’s work. “But you are right. I will marry Katharyn of Argent, then she will die.” 

“Is this your final decision? Once we hire the assassins there will be no turning back” 

“It’s the only way. Once she is crowned she will no longer be a daughter of France, no one will be able to save her.”


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: A loud argument woke Stiles up from his sleep. Though muffled he could still hear the conversation.

“Let me in wanker! Isn’t it a little too early in the morning for you to be brooding? Now let me go in before a rip off your penis!” All he heard next was the shuffling of armour, metal hitting the floor and loud obscene moans. Clutching the pillow around his ears he yelled at the top of his lungs.

“Damn it Isaac! No kissing loudly in front of thy chamber god dammit!”

A laugh broke out and the sunshine filled boy walked into the room perching himself on the bed next to a freshly annoyed Stiles.

“You can put down the pillow you know.” he stated with a shit eating grin plastered on his face.

“Or what you’re gonna make out some more with that gruff statue of a man outside my door?” he asked blandly dripping with sarcasm. “And since when were you with him, how can you be with him actually? He’s always so angry. Did you know the first day I woke up here he called me a brat and he hasn’t stopped called him that ever since!”

“Trust me, thats what i thought too before I caught him staring at me at the baths.” He curled his finger to get Stiles closer then put a hand up to his ear and whispered. “He’s sweet actually. When I walked up to him naked as a babe he blushed and started to stutter.”

Stiles’ face wrinkled in disgust. “Eww. I did not need to hear that!” pushing Isaac so hard that he fell off the bed. Both cowered snorting with laughter.

“But seriously. Look what I’ve got.” He held up two wooden plaques painted gold about the size of his hand.

“What is it?” He threw one into Stiles’ hands.

“It’s a pass. I got it from the head nurse, she gave me permission to go into the city and get herbs.”

“Then why are there two?” The older boy sat down and looped his arm with Stiles.

“Well, I’m supposed to go with Theodora but she was busy so she gave me her pass. Come on ! we got six hours and getting herbs only takes one at most!”

“Now?” he questioned.

“Yes now.”

“But I haven’t even eaten!” Isaac’s face hovered close.

“Guess we’ll just have to eat in the city then.” An evil smile broke out and Stiles was being hurled out of his bed, Isaac grooming him and slapping articles of clothing on him at the same time. Out of nowhere when Stiles was trying to fasten his shoes he felt something around his waist. One screech of a string being pulled Stiles was standing straight as a board barely breathing.

“Oh my god. Dude I can’t breath!” He gasped. Isaac’s foot rested at the base of the corset and the laces pulled tighter.

“Well too bad, suck it in. The clothes that are in your wardrobe are a size too small.” It was like being a doll, that modeled pretty little dresses. Looking in the mirror he was wearing black hose, a deep red silk and velvet doublet with slit sleeves and a matching knee length pleated skirt.

“I look like a doll.”

“You look like a royal. Now come on let’s get going.” Once out of the palace gates there was a carriage waiting that took them to inner Caldwell. Isaac paid off the carriage to wait for them at the bridge at two, then dragged him off to the crowds of people. Walking in a corset was kind of hard and Stiles had no idea how women could have worn them for centuries through history. They first stopped by a herb shop where Isaac picked up what he needed to then the two went off for breakfast.

“Isaac I’m gonna go to the lou before we leave.” Stiles left their table to find the bathroom. Walking down to the first floor to ask for a question he heard a name, stopping him in his tracks. Brindeaux.

“The huntress took on the bear herself! A normal man let alone a woman would have died!” some wrinkled balding man was speaking. As he walked closer another retorted.

“She’s a Brindeaux! Of course she’s gonna be able to take down a bear. I hear her family even took out a pack of wolves!” more nonsense spewed when Stiles reached the table.

“You’ve got the story wrong, she was raised by wolves. That’s why she’s such a good huntress.”

“Excuse me, but who is this huntress you speak of ?” he asked.

“Who we speak of? Who hasn’t heard of the huntress Claudine Brindeaux!” the balding man yelled and the whole place rung with laughter. Claudine. He knew very well who she was, His mother always spoke of her. The great family ancestor that protected the King. A hand on his shoulder woke him from his thoughts.

“Hey, what’s up with you? You ready?” One eyebrow was raised in confusion.

“Yeah. Let’s go.”   

The rest of the day went by with countless experiences. They went to shops, looked at street performers, and even went to the Phoenix theater to see the play Antigone. It wasn’t until they were in the carriage on their way back to the palace when Isaac brought the question up.

“Did something happen at the restaurant?” Stiles eyed him for a few moments before he spoke.

“I think I found my family.” Isaac’s expression still didn’t change.

“Well that’s a good thing isn’t it? Well is it?” he asked with concern.

“I don’t know. She probably doesn’t even know I exist.”

_The great ancestor that protected the king,_

**  
“Isaac, I have to ask you something.”**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Pain followed everywhere Derek went. It’s just second nature to him now, like a parasite he no longer has the will to fight. But every now and then this pain eats at his body making him writhe.

“Call nurse Rebecca.” He commanded clutching at his right inner thigh. The maid scurried away and he was left alone in his chamber, sitting in his chair quilted with fur pelts. When he looked up towards the shuffling of a gown his nurse arrived.

“Isaac, where’s Nurse Rebecca?” he asked still clutching at his thigh. Isaac knelt on the floor between Derek’s legs and undid his trousers to get a look at his thigh.

“Nurse Rebecca is in the infirmary looking after a few wounded knights. She has sent me to take care of your Majesty.” He ghosted his fingers over a blotch of bruise and the king grunted, hand fisting the fur pelt.

“Your Majesty has this happened lately?” Isaac arose from his kneel and poured mixes of powders and herbs into a mortar and started mixing it on the table next to him.

“It’s happened twice this week. In fact I think it’s getting worse.” The powders now ground into a fine creamy substance was applied to his inner thigh. Spreading it Isaac knelt once again between the King’s legs and started to massage the strained muscles.

“You wounded muscles are strained and trying to heal itself. You must be stressed to cause it.”

there was no answer, and the young nurse continued to treat him.

“Your Majesty forgive me for my imprudence, but as of now you are weak. You are a king without a crown.”

“Do you wish to have your head rotting a pike?” The king threatened, eyes menacing.

“Ever since I entered the court at age six, I have tended to your Majesty’s every need. In a way you are my friend, my brother and my father. I am seeking this chance to warn you as a friend that as of now you are carrying a very heavy sceptre. If you don’t have the strength to hold it, then someone else will come and snatch it from you.”

Isaac wiped his hands then continued on, to wrap the medicated area with ever so steady hands.

“You don’t think I know? My people are starving and dying everyday and yet I can do nothing about it. Do you even know how hard it is to face the paintings in the royal hall, To be forced to accept the fact that I not only failed my family but my people as well? Everynight in my bedchamber I have no way of finding peace.

He got up and stood by the window after Isaac fixed his trousers. He laughed hollowly.

“Do you know who I see every night?” Isaac shook his head closing up his box of bandages.

“How can I know who is on your mind.” Derek opened the first drawer of cabinet that he stood next to and pulled out what looked like a lady’s hairpin. It was a silver hairpin, rather slim with a small delicate butterfly and from it hung a small tear shaped pearl.

“Her name was Paige. I remember my first year at war with france, there was this brave little girl that ran out into the war zone.I was amazed that this little girl that couldn’t have been older than twelve ran out to deliver water and tend to soldiers when no one else would. She risked her life just to drag dead soldiers back to our side just so that they could have a proper burial and rest in peace. When I asked her what her name was all she said was Paige.

She didn’t have a last name because she was an orphan. This hairpin was the first gift that I gave to her as a father. I promised that when the war ended, she would come home with me and have a family.”

“Then where’s paige?”

An skeptical snort rumbled from his old lungs.

“She died. It was the final day of the war, the french were retreating and just when I thought everyone was safe a fantom cry rang through the air. Some unjust french soldier stabbed my daughter right in the stomach and left her to bleed out. Isaac do you know the pain of losing your parents?”

“Of course I do. It pains me everyday.”

“Well imagine that but ten time as worse because you couldn’t protect someone that you loved. I know the pain of outliving my child. Everytime I close my eyes I see my daughter dying, face covered with blood asking me why I can’t save her, Why I can’t save my people.”

Isaac wiped away a straw tear and straightened his uniform.

“Well then just because you lost your family it doesn’t mean that you can’t help someone else find their family.”

“And whose family is that?”

“Stiles.”

His Majesty’s ears perked and turned.

“Stiles?"

“Yes.” Isaac packed up and left the chamber, then nodding for Stiles to enter.

“Your Majesty.” Stiles bowed. Or tried his best to bow in a tight corset and form fitting bodice.  

“And why have you come to see me today?” Derek asked putting the hairpin back in it’s rightful place.

“Well, I was hoping, wondering-” he stuttered and began playing with his fingers out of nervousness.

“I was wondering if your Majesty would be kind enough to help find my family. I don’t wish for much, just. Just even if you call her into the court and let me see her from far away it’s enough.”

“Stiles, come sit.” He motioned to the chair he stood opposite of and Stiles sat down like a trained puppy.

“Do you already know who she is?”

“I do. She’s Claudine Brindeaux. But you can’t let her know that I’m her family.”

“And why is that?”

“I can’t. I promise I’ll tell you one day, just not now.”

“You promise?” The older man repeated bending down thumb sweeping across Stiles’ plump bottom lip.

“Yes.” He breathed, afraid of what’s to come next but yet yearning for it at the same time. After a moment of staring into each other's eyes he finally came down and gave him a chaste kiss; his first kiss actually.

“Come lie with me.” The king spoke motioning for Stiles to come follow him to the big canopy bed. Stiles rushed to his side and supported his arm upon seeing his limp.

“Does it still hurt?” Easing them onto the bed. His Majesty pulled the boy into the bed, his chest facing Stiles’ back and draped an arm over his heart.

“Yes. But I have you sweetness to indulge in.” His cheeks blushed, and burned. He’s never dated anyone before, and now he was in the King of Beacon’s bed. Listening to the steady breathing of the man behind him he started to fall asleep. The last thing he felt was scruff and Derek’s nose rubbing at his neck after a kiss.

You know that moment, between unconscious and conscious, when you are aware of what’s going on, but you cannot move and you are forced to just think about what is happening? This is where Stiles was at this moment. In this only time of clarity he knows very clearly that he shouldn’t fall for him, that there is too much at stake, but yet he can’t help but feel loved. No one has ever made him feel this way before, no one ever made him feel safe. Derek treated him like a gem when everyone else looked at him like he was just a lowly piece of marble. And the way he looked at him was the way any girl wanted to be looked at. He felt just like Daisy faye.

 


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: A month passed by uneventfully, the King heavily drowned in national matters and Stiles not being able to do much with an injured shoulder. With ADHD Stiles was always easily distracted and constantly bored with almost everything. The days that he didn’t spend in the library he spent in the nurse’s quarters with Rebecca. Part of him was disappointed that Derek was only able to see him once a week, but he knew it was for the best. If he didn’t want to fall for him, the best way would be to not see him. As of now he sat at the table reading a 15th century book on history in the Nurse’s quarters accompanied by Rebecca who was grinding some herbs in a mortar.

“Rebecca what is that?” Stiles asked bored of his book again.

“Dried Peacock flower. It helps blood circulate.” Stiles hummed in interest. On the table were several glass bottles, out of curiosity he picked up the one closest to him. He looked at the label, it read Wolfsbane.

“Rebecca this is wolfsbane.” He pointed out. As much as he knew wolfsbane was a very poisonous flower. History even records execution by wolfsbane poison. Rebecca smirked slyly like she knew something that Stiles didn’t.

“It is. It’s known to the world as poison, but if used correctly it can heal what you desire.” She spoke taking the bottle from Stiles hands. The amount of wolfsbane that Rebecca added to her mixture was so minimal that is was probably less than the size of a pea. She was so cryptic, but cryptic was good. Her enigmas challenged the boy’s mind and kept him occupied.

“What are you using it for?”

“The King.”

“The King? What’s wrong is he ill?” He questioned a bit fast with maybe just too much concern.

“The first year of his reign he was at war with France. He had been injured heavily at the hands of the Argents. The only reason he lived to return to home was because that old hag of a Princess Katharyn fancied his face and wanted to become Queen. That woman is ten years the King’s senior and if you ask me, a Princess that still wasn’t married by her age must have had something wrong with her.”

“Yeah, now that I think about it. She’s a Princess, there should be men all over France wanting to take her hand. Maybe she’s a bitch.” Rebecca actually stopped what she was doing completely. When Stiles looked up her face was in a comical expression, mouth dropped in a perfect “O” before shifting into laughter.

“Haha! Oh my god thats true! What better way to insult someone than to call them a female dog!” she laughed so hard she snorted, making Stiles break into giggles as well. Their fun was soon interrupted by a chambermaid entering the room.

“Your Honour, the King sends a gift as an apology for not being able to see you.” she speaks in a voice void of any emotion. Stiles rose from the bench he sat on and came closer to the girl.

“What is it?” Opening the box, the chambermaid presented it to Stiles. Inside was a stunning platinum ring set with a big emerald cut diamond, intense fancy pink tapered with two baguette diamonds.

“Oh wow.” He swallowed then closed the box turning his head to the side. I can’t he thought. I can’t fall in love with Derek, If i don’t then there will be no war with france. This way the safety and welfare of my people and the french can be secured.

“Take it back.Tell the king that I am much grateful for kindness and his generosity, but I cannot accept a gift of such...Value.”

“But the King wishes-”

“You will take the gift back to the King and you will tell him my words exactly.” Stiles commanded with the slightest hint of frustration. Swallowing, the chamber nodded and left.

“Yes your Honour.”

He returned to his seat on the bench, staring down at the book like it held the answers of the universe.

“Child, It is the King's gratitude, why do you not accept it?” the Nurse asked quietly. Stiles shook his head.

“I can accept his kindness and I can accept his gratitude but I cannot accept a ring.” He closed his book and put it aside.

“Rebecca, his gift is a ring. A ring Rebecca! He fancies me and I fancy him but I will not risk the safety of my people for a love story. And if protecting your country means giving up someone who could be your other half then, I guess. I know that I would be willing to do so.”

“Oh Stiles.” The motherly nurse went around the bench to Stiles side and stood holding the boy as he cried into her bosom.

“Besides, he’ll forget all about me soon anyways. Men. He is a man and men have big hearts that can love many people at once. He would have broken my heart anyways.” He sobbed into her chest until he could cry no longer. That night he slept with his face still stained with tears.

**  
  
**

Over the next two weeks Derek was still not able to come see Stiles, but he sent two more gifts. The second gift was a pair of black diamond stud earrings, and the third was a coronet made with gold and red emerald cut diamonds. Every time the same chambermaid came and left with the same answer. Stiles no longer wanted to see anyone, not even Rebecca so he locked himself inside his chamber wallowing in self pity.

A clatter of amour walked in the gruff guard that stood outside his chamber door.

“Hey, brat are you okay? You’ve been quiet for a few days.” The guard's voice wasn’t his usual stern attitude. Instead it was a fake artificial voice trying to mask concern.

“Hello to you too Sir gruff gruffington.” Stiles said bleakly. Having lost all his desire to bicker with the man he just twirled the chess pieces around his hand.

Awkwardly he came closer. “Hey brat,” he began. “You know if there’s anything you ever want to talk about. I’ve got ears.” Setting down the pawn piece Stiles looked up with a small smile.

“Thanks.” His eyes drifted to the chess board before looking up again with a small quirked lip. “You wanna play chess with me?”

“You’re on brat.” Sitting down grinning, a vast sight never before seen by anyone in the Palace.

“You know I do have a name right.” The younger boy muttered moving his first pawn across the squares. Opposite of him the guard did the same thing with ebony pieces.

“I know. I just like calling you brat. Brat.” Stiles laughed for the first time. In fact it was his first time laughing for as long as he remembered.

“Well since I’m such a brat. I demand, you tell your name.”

“Thomas Calvin Pasko.” He dragged out every syllable and knocked over Stiles’ pawn on the last vowel of his name, taking the piece off the board. Looking up, the boy’s mouth was open jaw dropped.

“Oh that is so cheating!” The boy stared at him and spat out the first thing that came to his mind. “Yokel.”

“Better a yokel, than a spoiled brat. Huh, brat?” Tom smirked showing his bunny teeth. Stiles replied with knocking over his knight with a Queen.

“Oops. I guess it must’ve been my brattiness that blessed me with a brain.” The two continued to bicker back and forth until Thomas retired for the day.  

The sun was on it’s way to set, and Stiles sat at his table reading a book of lost lore, when Derek marched his way into the room.

“Are you mad at me?” Derek asked breath heavy. He stood in front of Stiles, Tiara grasped tightly in his hand.

“No.” Stiles muttered in return closing his book. Derek set the coronet on the table in front of him right on top of his book. The jeweled headpiece was beautiful, a true work of art. The coronet itself was made of a base circle of red diamonds set in gold, and was topped with a white diamonds and a petit fleur de lis fringe. But it did not belong to him, it never will.

“Then why do you not accept my gifts?” The man questioned voice hinting anger and pent up frustration.

“I accepted your kindness and gratitude.” he persisted looking anywhere but Derek or the tiara.

“But you will not accept my gifts. why?” Demanded the man before him. He had enough, Stiles stood up in front of the king chest to chest.

“Because those jewels belong to Katharyn of Argent! She is your future Queen, She is the one who will wear this tiara on her head, She is the one you will marry! I am nothing.” He yelled in a fit of rage.

“Are you jealous, is that why?” Derek smirked. Stiles’ words flowed without even thinking.

“Jealousy? This has nothing to do with jealousy! Don’t you understand why we can’t be together?”

Instead of an answer Derek brought the boy’s lips to his, connecting in a hungry kiss. The boy whimpered into the kiss until Derek had broken it.

“I know about what happened that day in the garden. If you really don’t want to be with me then you wouldn’t have sent back my gifts, you would have taken the first gift then left the Palace. So why Stiles? why do you not take what I gift to you?” Derek asked placing his hand on Stiles’ cheek, his thumb caressing the boy’s bottom lip.

“Katharyn of Argent is a mad woman. If you break engagement then a war will come. I love you Derek, but the love of my people should come first.” He spoke without even opening his eyes. He was too afraid, all he could do was put his hand over Derek’s on his cheek and let tears stream. Derek drew him into another kiss, this one more passionate instead of lustful.

“Love of your people? Katharyn is a mad woman. What do you think would happen is she becomes mother of Beacon?” There was no answer in Stiles’ throat.

“Tell me you don’t want this. That you don’t want to be mine and I will take these gifts and give them to Katharyn. I will give you a home in the outskirts of the city and you will never see me again.”

Stiles stared into Derek's eyes looking for his words.

“What about that day? When I summoned Claudine Brindeaux to be my guard. I remember you crying quietly behind the screen door peeking into the room. You said just one look was enough, and that night in my bed chamber you were in my arms. We stayed up together until sunrise because we were both too afraid to sleep. Can you really tell me that you didn’t feel anything for me?”

“I. I can’t. I can’t lie myself that I don’t want you.” he stuttered from crying. Another chaste kiss and Derek pulled out a box from his overcoat.

“Then will you finally accept my gifts?” He asked once more, Stiles only nodded with a smile. Derek slid the ring onto his finger.

“You look beautiful.” The king spoke crowning the boy before him.

Just one month later I was officially coronated as regent consort, and three days after Derek left in full armour, charging into battle. Everyday I sat so scared in the throne room, wondering if the prophecy would fulfil itself. While Derek was at war he left me with the sceptre, the power to rule over Beaconia and my only advisors were Cora, Rebecca and Isaac. Another month passed on by and my Derek returned safely back to me, we had won the war. Over in france my people were winning the war greatly and the french decided they had enough, The French decided that they would no longer serve such a corrupt house and rebelled against the house of Argent. Katharyn was executed in public, her head now rotting on a pike and her body shred to pieces by wolves. The rest of the Argent family hung. Now in france stands a new ruler, who is by far fairer than anyone I have ever known; The house of Bourbon.

“Derek! Fuck, I’m gonna, I’m gonna” His loud moans were followed by a grunt, and they both collapsed on the furs cushioning the bed. The big muscly man wrapped his arms around him and layed them on their sides kissing his neck.

“You were amazing Stiles.” Stiles snickered poking at the arm around his chest, and Derek planted another wide kiss on his cheek. “I love you, my consort.”

“I love you too.” Stiles whispered. He loosed Derek’s arm and stretched to blow out the candles, leaving them in the dark to drift off to sleep. After feeling like a faery sleeping on the clouds, Stiles woke up to a full moon. Uncurling himself from his husband he slipped on his robe and walked out into garden where the he stood by the stone fence that encrusted the lake. He took a deep relaxing breath of the crisp night air, and admired the moon’s reflection in the lake.

“Well hey, haven’t seen you in a while.” He gently pet the little yellow bird the perched on the stone fence. It chirped as Stiles petted him and in a flash bit him, a drop of blood already dripping from the wound.

“Ow! What the hell?” he sucked on his finger staring down at the bird when it flew at his face, making him lose balance. His foot slipped on the algae and he was hurled over the short stone fence and into the water. The water was so cold that it felt like a thousand knives stabbing him again and again, he couldn’t breath and his heart seared. All he could see was the brightness of the moon fading as he drowned. In a moment where it’s okay to be selfish, to fear for one’s own life, Stiles didn’t. All he could think of was Derek, how there would be no one to take care of him, how lonely he would be. He’s never felt this guilty because he knew that this would happen, that he would die and in turn kill Derek; the one person who ever loved him.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is it guys! I want to thank all of guys that stuck with me and supported me all the way. You're all awesome :)

Chapter 8: Nothing. There was just nothing, no angels, no dead family members, no light that people always talked about; it was just he and himself floating in nowhere trapped with his thoughts. If he didn’t die already, he was probably willing to at this point. There was nothing he could see, just a voice.

“Stiles,” A voice rung out softly. It was so familiar he could recognize it from a thousand women speaking at once. This voice was so gentle, motherly and confident.

“Mom?” He looked everywhere insight but still nothing, like he was in the sea after an squid ink'd.

“I need you to listen to me, you don’t belong son. Not for a long time.” The voice echoed in every corner of his mind.

“Your time isn’t up yet, and if you don’t leave now you’ll be stuck here forever.”

“How do I go back home?”

“Find the will, Think of your father, anyone and everyone that you care about. Find an anchor to ground you back to the world of the living. You’re stuck here because you think there’s nothing left to live for, and it’s not true. You have to listen to me.” she pleaded.

“Okay.” Stiles closed his eyes and took deep breaths, thinking of something that would make him want to live again. He looked deep into his heart. He felt his chest become warm as he found his anchor, memories of making cookies with his mom as a child, he and Scott standing up for each other in grade school, that tenderness and warmth he felt whenever Derek held him in his arms. He could see the dark sky above him begin to shatter raining shards down.

“Wait! Mom, I love you.” He spoke, the light flooded into the plain and his mother stood in front of him just as he remembered.

“I love you too. Now go, before it’s too late.” Seeing her smile was the last thing he needed to send him back home. The all too familiar blinding light came over him again.

The beeping, the smell of industrial cleaner, the agonizing feeling of a tube down his throat. His eyes snapped open and he slammed into an upright position. Out of panic he ripped the tape off his mouth and pulled the tube out of his throat. Bent over, his chest heaved and nausea crept over him. He was in a hospital.

He pulled the tubes out of his arms, and planted his feet on the ground trying to walk but fell instead. He crawled his way to his dad that sat in the hospital chair next to his bed and shook his shoulders,

“Dad. Dad?” Stiles’ voice was raspy beyond belief and felt like swallowing sand when he talked. John rumbled and blinked his eyes a few times.

“Stiles? Stiles!” He wasted no time and grabbed his son into a tight hug. Neither wanted to let go, desperate like a lifeline.

“God Stiles, what on earth happened!” he asked kissing his forehead. Stiles’ eyes watered up shaking his head, after he buried his face in his father’s chest.

“I’m sorry! I’m so, so sorry.”

“It’s okay, It’s okay. All that matters is that you’re awake.” The loving father promised.

After two more days in the hospital, he was released. Melissa and Scott both helped him dress and get ready to leave the hospital room, his dad was standing in the doorway trying to hold off the FBI agents. He didn’t speak the whole way back to his house. It still felt like home, but a big chunk was missing. According to his dad, he had been missing for about six months. Scott and the school principal reported him missing during the school trip, and the police discovered his phone on the floor of a bathroom of which all the mirrors were broken or shattered. They had assumed he had been kidnapped.

“Stiles, you really don’t remember anything?” John asked again fluffing his pillow.

“No. I just had this really real dream.” Stiles’ thumb rubbed at his bare left ring finger. There was absolutely no sense of reality anymore. What if he had been kidnapped, and somehow ended up in a coma and dreamt this whole saga. With everyday that passed he started to believe that it really was just a dream.

He visited the royal museum again, by himself. Standing in the Hall of Monarchs felt different now. He and Derek’s portrait hung proudly in the hall, the name plate beneath it read: King Derek and Unknown Consort. Next to it came the showcases, One of which held a coronet. His coronet.

Mid september now, and Stiles fell back into his boring old mundane life going to school with Scott. Everyday he sat in class bored out of his mind. History was the worst, everytime he looked at the Hale dynasty textbook he thought he was insane or mentally ill because of what he felt in his heart.

Helen, who had the same class but before him sat across him at his lunch table and next to Scott, Danny and Jackson.

“So oh my god, this new teacher is such a cunt. She’s having us do an entire project on the Hale siblings that ruled. She wants a full poster and six mother fucking pages. Could you believe that ?” she ranted on and on and Stiles just decided he had enough for today. He leaned over and whispered to Scott.

“Dude, I’m gonna go home. I’m not feeling well can you get my homework for the rest of my classes?”

“Sure. You want me to go home with you?” Stiles smiled a bit.

“No, your mom would kill us both and my dad would give her legal permission to do so.” He left his backpack in his locker and drove off into town. It was the time of year where it started to get cold, and Stiles walked around, window shopping.

“One hundred forty five dollars and thirty cents,” The cashier informed opening up a bag.

“Oh no, I’ll wear it out.” He paid and left the boutique wearing his new coat and a fluffy black fur collar. It was a red trench coat, imported from Korea, cut and stitched rather slim and the fur collar was dyed black made from rabbit pelt.

He walked down the street and saw a crowd forming around someone, noises of cameras going off everywhere. Out of curiosity he went closer to take a look.

“Probably just some bigshot actor shooting a scene.” He mumbled eyeing the elizabethan styled clothing that the tall man wore. The tall man’s hair was black and looked familiar, When he turned around the man took his breath away.

“Stiles! Stiles!” The man pushed his way through the crowd and ran to him.

“Is this a dream?” He looked at Derek, and pulled off his glove touching his face. His warm, stubbly face.

“Oh my god, I thought I’d never see you again.” he whispered resting his forehead against Derek’s.

“I’d do anything to be back by your side.”

“Even risk your own life and leave the throne?” he laughed.

“I have no life without you in it. Beside Cora can have it.” Derek kissed him, people and flashes of cameras surrounding them. When Derek let go he got down on one knee and pulled out his pink diamond ring.

“In this day and time, Will you still be mine?” Stiles looked up and around smiling ear to ear, Everyone around them chanting “Say yes! Say yes!”

“Who says that I’m yours?” A silence and pause came through, Derek looking dumbfounded still on one knee. Stiles groaned in frustration, waving his hand in front of the man’s face.

“Well if you like it, then put a ring on it!” Derek smiled sliding the giant rock onto his finger and kissed him as everyone in the background blasted “Single Ladies” in the background.

“Everyone in this time that you live in is so queer.” Derek whispered.

Stiles smiled in his arms and tapped Derek’s pointy little nose

“Now what was that old saying from your time? ‘There ain’t nothin as queer as folk’ I think it was.”

**  
“Shut up.”**


End file.
